May Day For Charlie Tango
by Aryea
Summary: Someone has sabotaged Charlie Tango and Christian tries to cope. Based on scene in Fifty Shades Darker.
1. Chapter 1

_DISCLAIMER: Characters of FSOG belong to E.L. James. I don't know much about helicopters, or what to do in a cash, so I researched what I could and made up the rest passed on what was written in the book._

_This story was requested by a officeladyprobz on Twitter** and **Jasmine Garden. so here you are. Hope you like it and if you do, please review and follow me on Twitter aryeahunt._

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**CHAPTER ONE**

"I think that meeting went well," Ros admitted as Charlie Tango lifted off from the small helipad atop the WSU building in Vancouver. "I really don't know what Reese was caterwauling about."

Christian nodded in agreement. After his breakfast meeting he'd remained in the Portland office to deal with several other issues that needed his direct attention. Being the CEO of his own company rarely allowed for much recreation time, despite what some people thought.

Hoping to get as much done as he could before the weekend, he'd planned to leave early, but got waylaid by one of his project managers who started making noise about an issue with WSU that sounded as if they were going to be pulling the plug on the deal that Grey Enterprises had spent over six months working on if they didn't get what they wanted. He had decided to stop over in Vancouver on the way home to Seattle and deal with the issue directly, since Anastasia wouldn't be been expecting him for a couple of hours at least.

"You should dock his pay for getting us all worked up. I mean honestly, if I didn't think he'd enjoy it so much I'd knock the shit right out of him."

Christian wondered what Ros would say if he admitted he was fond of that particular activity himself, but decided to just smile instead. His number two was a tigress all right, and luckily completely _not_ his type. He did intend to have a talk with Reese about what constituted a crisis. He couldn't be expected to see to every aspect of every deal himself, that was why he over a hundred employees for fuck's sake. But, Ros was right, he should take the cost of their time and fuel out of the fucker's pay. Reese was a damn good at what he did most of the time and Christian understood that everyone was allowed one mistake; and he was holding firm at one.

"Maybe I'll just lock him in a room with you next time we fly to Portland?"

Ros shrugged and took a sip from her bottle of water. "Nah, I just had my nails done. I'd hate to fuck them up on a face that ugly."

Christian laughed. Damn, she was feisty. He'd pay for another trip to the salon to see the two of them fight. "I guess I'll just have to have a talk with him tomorrow then."

Ross pretended to shudder. Christian Grey 'talking' with an employee was sometimes worse than getting physically beaten and she wondered now what she had started. Reese could be a pain in the ass, but he was still a decent employee. "Well, maybe not a talk," she hedged. "Maybe just a …quick chat? With witnesses….and an escape route."

"Agreed." Christian nodded. "I promise not to fire him."

Ros adjusted herself in the seat and pulled at the tight harness she was strapped into. "Good, because I have enough to do."

Christian laughed again. He wasn't really upset about having to fly to Vancouver, although he had wanted to have an early day at work and get back to see Anastasia. He knew her friend Jose would be coming by to drop off her portraits and he didn't want the two of them alone in the apartment. He trusted Anastasia, but not the boy; never the boy.

Money talks, he'd learned that lesson well thanks to Elena, but he also knew when people were simply being stupid or greedy and he suspected that was what happened with the board in WSU. He wasn't going to give his money away just because he had plenty of it, there had to be a reasonable profit or in this case, a significant reason.

Weeks ago, when he'd heard about the possibility that several of the university's scholarship programs were being pulled due to lack of funding, he had immediately jumped on board to offer his support. The school had been delighted when he offered to fund ten new scholarships and build them a new research library. They had asked for a new football field, as several of their scholarship students came through the Athletic scholarships, but Christian had balked at the idea.

There were enough jocks out there, he wanted to help the smart kids, the ones that had brilliant minds, but maybe couldn't afford school on their own or without holding down a full time job, like Anastasia. While his decision had been made well before meeting Ana, and the deal over halfway developed, she helped him confirm his choice with WSU.

It irked him that she'd had to support herself working in a hardware store when she was so obviously beyond brilliant. He imagined how hard it must have been being in class all day, then working most of the evening and weekends only to be studying well into the night as well. No doubt such a schedule had been partially to blame for Anastasia's atrocious eating habits.

He frowned suddenly as he thought of her last text and wondered what the hell she was up to. Something for his birthday, well that could be anything and he hated surprises. Well, he shouldn't say he hated them; he just wasn't use to them. He really should have texted her back, but when he received her last text he was just finished his morning meeting and immediately became tied up with work and Reese about the issue at WSU.

He'd decided to stop over in Vancouver and deal with the crisis face to face, he understood few people were willing to bitch and threaten the CEO of Grey Enterprises as they were to one of his employees. He had been in full work mode and had forgotten all about Anastasia's text until now, but he couldn't very well text while he was flying.

"I think we should celebrate," Ros decided as she twisted the cap off her water bottle. "I think you should take me to dinner when we get back." No one else would be as bold as she was with the CEO, but she and Christian shared a special, if not completely familiar relationship.

He shook his head as he checked their altitude and gently turned the helicopter North towards Seattle and home. "Can't tonight." He wanted to get home to Anastasia, but Ros did deserve a little treat, they both did after what they managed to pull off today. "Have you ever seen Mount St. Helena?"

Ros glanced at him, startled. "No, but isn't it restricted airspace?"

"Not anymore, they lifted the ban last year. It's on the way, we can do a quick fly by if you like. It really is something everyone should see, especially from the air."

"Well then yes!" Ros practically glowed. "That sounds amazing!"

Christian nodded and adjusted his heading. It was only a minor only a minor detour off course and now that he'd thought of it he'd really like to see the volcano again "Excellent."

Twenty minutes later they were flying low over the majestic snow covered volcano.

"Isn't it breathtaking?" She shot him a nervous glance. "You're sure it's dormant?"

"Oh no, it's active. Could blow at any time." He glanced at her solemnly. "Want to fly closer?"

Ros regarded him for a long moment and finally realized he was teasing her. Christian Grey was a bulldog when it came to safety so she knew he would never fly over it if there was ever any real danger. She had to admit, her boss had been unusually chipper and fun to be around lately. Obviously Anastasia Steele was very good for him. "Absolutely," she tossed back. "Give 'er."

Christian grinned, pleased, and swept the helicopter to just about two hundred feet above the ground so they could get an up close and personal view of one of nature's wonders. "It really is fant…" Suddenly the instrument panel lit up and several sensors started ringing with alarms. "What the hell?"

He made as many adjustments as he could but nothing worked, and then he lost guidance control. The helicopter lurched sideways, then a horrible, gut-wrenching drop as it started to spiral down lower and lower, the ground rising up far too quickly to meet them.

"M...Mr. Grey?" Ros asked as she gripped her seat, trying to maintain her dignity in the face of her fear. "Chris?"

Christian pulled up on the now useless throttle, prayed that it would catch, just as a loud popping noise sounded around them and the fire engine light flicked on, mixing with the sounds of the rest of the panel which was shrieking at this point. He risked a glance out his side window and grimaced at the flames shooting from the helicopter's tail. Fuck! Fuck!

Christian started pushing buttons and pulling levers. Engine Power Control- locked. Fuel System off. Fuel Boost Pump Control- off. He checked the TGT and winced that it was not functioning. He continued to switch everything off.

"Are we going to crash?" Ros asked, her voice sounding far calmer than what she felt.

"Yes." Christian had no control other than a very small portion of rooter control that allowed him to somewhat glide the machine away from the volcano.

"Are we going to die?"

"No." Not if he could help it anyway.

He wasn't ready to die. He couldn't die; he needed to get back to Anastasia. Fate wouldn't be so cruel to allow her to come into his life only to snatch him away after such a brief time together. Besides, Jose would be there with her, and he was damned if he was about to let that boy comfort his Ana.

Ros watched as they bypassed a lake and continued to fall, no longer in circles but the plunging depth still had her stomach in her throat. She reached her hand across and placed it on his bicep, hardened by his continued attempt to manage their descent. "It's been a pleasure working with you, Christian."

Christian allowed his eyes to meet hers briefly and he nodded. "Likewise." When he looked back the ground was rising up to meet them and his only thought was for Anastasia.

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**_...Should I continue?_**


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: CHARACTERS BELONG TO E.L. JAMES.

Wow! I guess you wanted me to continue! Well, okay, here it is, the next installment. I hope you enjoy it and if you do please tell me what you think in a review. I look forward to all your thoughts and suggestions and will do my best to build on them. There is language, as it is Christian Grey and he is hardly a boyscout, hope I do not offend.

In thanks to all those who have already reviewed and followed/favored the story, a nice long chapter. I am stunned by the outstanding reception. :) Cheers!

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**CHAPTER 2**

They were down. Disbelief flooded Christian and he suddenly found it impossible to release his death grip on the yolk as he struggled to come to terms with his second chance at life; his second chance with Anastasia. As the helicopter hurtled toward Earth, he'd worked furiously to keep her somewhat level so they would not land nose or tail first. Because they had only been a couple hundred feet up when everything went to shit, he'd had almost no time to amend the situation.

A thousand thoughts had run through his mind, even as he determinedly worked to land the helicopter safely, and he now fully understood what it meant to see your life flash before your eyes in the face of imminent death. He'd thought of his birth mother, the whore, why he wasn't sure, and then of the bastard that had burned him and how he would never get his revenge. He thought of Elena and the salons they were partners in…Would his Elliot step up and take over Grey Enterprises and give her a fair buy out?

He thought of the sweetness of Grace's face and his gratitude to her for changing his life and the innocence and beauty of his little sister Mia. Ana invaded his thoughts most of all, every moment he had spent with her, every moment more he wanted to spend. Would she find comfort in the arms of her friend Jose or Ethan if he died? That had angered him, the idea that anyone would touch her, hold her, make love to her, but him and it had been his final desperate thought…that he had to live to keep Anastasia away from all other men; so she would always be his.

"Are we dead?"

Ros's question pulled him back to the present and the smell of smoke and flame, reminding him that they were still in danger and he used all his inner strength to pry his fingers from the yolk and unstrapped his harness.

"Not yet," he returned as he reached behind him for the standard fire extinguisher that was strapped to the lower bulkhead. "Get out, now."

Ros tried to release her harness with hands that wouldn't stop shaking and cursed. "God damn a…adrenalin."

Christian immediately reached across and set her free. "Out! Go!"

Ros put her shoulder to the door and heaved it open. She grabbed her purse and scrambled down out of the helicopter as Christian did the same on his side. She rounded to the back to watch him douse the flames with the extinguisher.

"Get back!" he ordered, worried that the helicopter would blow up if he didn't get the flames out in time.

"Likewise!" she snapped and pulled off her suit jacket to attack a set of flames that started to lick at the side of the machine opposite of where Christian was spraying. "Out! Out damn you!"

Together they managed to get the fire out creating swirling masses of smoke that had them both coughing horribly. The extinguisher was empty and Christian tossed it to the ground, then pulled Ros further away from the damage and smoke.

"Do you *_cough_* think it's out?" she wheezed.

"I think so," he admitted, but didn't want to get any closer, just in case. The idea of his beloved Charlie Tango exploding in front of him wrenched at his heart. "I hope so,"

"So we're not going to die?"

"Not from the crash anyway."

"Good." Ross tossed her ruined jacket to the ground, stepped up to Christian, slapped her hands on either side of his face, then pulled his head down and firmly pressed her lips to his in a heart, gratifying kiss. "Thank you, Mr. Grey."

Christian was startled by such a bold move from his usually disciplined and often stoic number two, then suddenly found himself putting his arms around her and squeezing her hard.

"Thank you," he whispered, realizing that if anyone else had been in the helicopter, with the exception of Taylor, he would not have been able to maintain the composure to land. Her rock solid demeanor and unwavering faith in him was as much responsible for their safe, albeit rocky, landing as he was.

Ros was stunned. Christian Grey had hugged her! Actually hugged her! She didn't think he hugged anybody. She grinned, squeezed him back just as hard then they both quickly released each other and returned to their official roles. "Yes, well…that's that then." She dusted off her hands and glanced around. "Where the hell are we?"

Christian pulled out his blackberry, dismayed that he had no bars available in their current area. "Fuck."

"That bad?"

"No signal." Christian waved at her. "Try yours."

Ros pulled out her blackberry and was disappointed that she too had no signal. "Is it really that much to ask?" she demanded as she moved around and held up her phone, hoping to find an angle that would give her at least a bar or two. "Piece of shit."

Christian knew they had to get moving. He hadn't had the chance to send a distress call because he'd needed to cut the power so quickly, and while he didn't want to leave the helicopter out here all on its own he knew Charlie Tango wasn't going anywhere.

It would be dark soon, which reminded him that Jose was coming by today. He would be in the apartment with Anastasia, they would be alone. He could just see the two of them, curled up in his living room with a bottle of wine and some finger food that Mrs. Jones made up as they looked at Anastasia's portraits.

He didn't want anyone else looking at those! That was why he bought them in the first place. It irked him enough that Jose had the balls to take the photos, and then display them without Anastasia's knowledge or consent. The boy was so in love with Anastasia it was pathetic, and at this very moment could be plying her with wine. He remembered what happened the last time Jose was alone with an intoxicated Anastasia Steele and he felt fury burn him to the core.

"Mr. Grey?" Ros grew concerned at the tightening in her employer's face. "Are you all right?"

Christian glanced at her, startled, then forced himself to focus on their situation. "According to my GPS the nearest road is that way," he pointed north. "Three, maybe four hours away." He suddenly focused on Ros's pencil skirt and smart black pumps and winced on her behalf. "Well, fuck, Ros."

She glanced down at her three inch Gucci shoes and for the first time was relieved she had not chosen to wear her Jimmy Choos that day. "I wasn't exactly expecting to hike." She lifted her gaze to his and smiled, determined. "I'll be okay."

"We'd better get started then," Christian decided and slid his phone back in his suit pocket. He was anxious to get back to civilization and to Ana. "We've got a long walk ahead of us and it will be dark soon."

Ros nodded solemnly and followed, watching as Christian gave one final look back at Charlie Tango, reluctant to leave it there.

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It took almost two full hours walking over the uneven dirt and grass terrain for Ros's feet to really start screaming, but she refused to show it. The sun was dipping low in the sky and she was grateful, because the heat of the day had been oppressive against their constant walking.

Mr. Grey was now carrying his jacket over his shoulder his clothes and shoes were as dusty and dirty as her own. Her CEO had grown eerily quiet the last hour or so and she wondered what was eating him. They'd discussed business for the first little bit of their trek, but then he closed down and just walked. Now he had an expression on his face that she knew, from experience, warned against further discussion.

God! Were they ever going to find the damn road? She pulled her cell phone out of her purse again and cursed when she saw the battery was dead. "Motherfuckingsonofacocksucki ngwhore!"

Christian stopped walking, her oath pulling him away from thoughts of Anastasia and Jose together. Such language was very out of character for Ros. "What's wrong?"

"My battery's dead." She shook the phone, once, twice and then debated whether or not to fling it away. "Piece of crap."

Christian pulled out his blackberry as well. "Still no signal, so what does it matter?"

"It matters!" she decided and then shoved the phone back in her purse. "How can we not have any signal? We are we, Mars?"

Christian smirked. Ros was never this grumpy, she was certainly used to him being grumpy, but not the other way around. He glanced at her open toed shoes and could only imagine how much her feet were killing her, his own were protesting quite loudly in his stylish Italian loafers.

"Do you need to rest?" He asked the question out of concern, but desperately hoped she said no. He wanted…no needed to get home before something horrible happened between Anastasia and Jose. He hated not knowing what was going on, not being there to remind the boy that Ana was his and only his.

Ros wanted to rest, she wanted to take off the shoes that had cost her almost three hundred dollars and chuck them in the lake back the way they had come, but she knew if she stopped, starting again would be just as painful. The rocky and uneven terrain would injure her feet if she took the shoes off, so she had only one choice.

"No. Let's keep going."

Thank fucking Christ! "You're sure?"

"So you need to stop?"

"I'm okay."

"Right." She pulled herself up to her full height. "Anything you can do, I can do better, Mr. Grey."

He almost grinned, but his worry and jealousy wouldn't allow it. "I have no doubt." There was a reason she was his number two. "I'm not wearing heels, Ros."

"I don't know that they'd go with your suit, Mr. Grey."

He appreciated her trying to be brave, as his heart and head warred with what was best. "I wouldn't mind a break," he lied and knew that Ros knew he was lying.

"Honestly, Christian, I'm not sure that if I stop I will ever get started again."

Christian nodded in understanding. "Okay, let's go then."

"Reese is such a dead man," she decided as she hobbled forward again.

"Oh? I thought we were willing to forgive that whole thing?"

"That was before we crashed and almost burned to death! Now, the gloves are off." She shot him a look. "With your permission, Mr. Grey, I intend to whip his ass bloody when we get back."

"Or at least have him walk four hours in those shoes?"

"At least."

Christian nodded solemnly. "Permission granted." Permission. Would Jose ask Anastasia's permission before he took her to bed? Would she let him? She didn't seem able to cope with the boy last time and he simply didn't trust the bastard.

He wished his phone did work, so he could at least call Taylor and tell him to stay in the room with Anastasia at all times, but then he remembered what his head of security was dealing with. He sighed and scowled at his watch. Jose would have been there a good hour now, more than enough time to ply Anastasia with wine. More than enough time to entice her to bed, to put his hands on her, to fuck her.

His hand fisted beneath the fabric of the jacket he held over his shoulder and suddenly he realized how dark it was getting. He hoped they reached the road soon.

* * *

"I'm sorry!" Ross gasped another hour later and suddenly dropped down on a large boulder. "I…I need a minute."

Christian was beside her instantly and cursed, there was blood seeping from the open toes of her shoes. He'd been so caught up in his jealousy of Anastasia and Jose and his mission to get home he'd neglected this lovely, strong woman beside him. He crouched before her, gently pulled off her shoes and winced. "Your feet are bleeding!"

"Didn't know there was a torture chamber included with purchase." She winced as Christian pulled out his handkerchief and wiped at where the blisters that had formed around the front of her foot had broken. "Should've paid more."

"I'm so sorry, Ros."

"Not your fault."

No, Christian agreed, but it was somebody's. Charlie Tango was the safest Eurocopter in its class. He paid top dollar top have it regularly maintained and checked everything himself before and after each flight. There was no way the engine should have caught fire, no way the instruments should have failed the way they had, and yet it happened. Someone had tried to kill him, but he would have to work out the who, how and why later.

He pulled out his blackberry and swore when he saw that his battery was also dead. Well, they'd just keep heading in the direction they were going. They had to be close, it was hours. Luckily there was a full moon to guide them.

He made a decision and rose as he slipped his jacket over her shoulders, noticing the growing chill in the night air. "Put this on." She slid her arms through the sleeves and he turned around, braced himself and crouched. "Climb on."

Ros gaped at Christian Grey's back. He couldn't be serious! "You can't…You can't be serious!"

Christian grimaced and fought back the fear that was already climbing up his body and panicking his heart into a rhythm. Ros couldn't keep walking, and he couldn't carry her in his arms because if she accidentally brushed his chest he'd lose it. He didn't like being touched on his back either, but it was the lesser evil.

"Get on!" he ordered curtly, before he lost his nerve. He had to force himself not to pull away as he felt her hands settle on his shoulders and her legs slip around his waist. He took several deep breaths, slipped his arms under her calves and adjusted so she was in a more comfortable place across his back, then slowly rose.

The pressure and heat of her against him was almost his undoing and for a brief instant he was a helpless child again, back in that horrid apartment with the pimp holding him down as cigarettes were burned into his flesh. A wave of nausea swarmed him and he almost stumbled, suddenly unsteady.

"I'm too heavy…" Ros began and started to slide her legs down.

"No." Christian's arms tightened in reflex and determination. She wasn't heavy at all, in fact she was lighter than Anastasia, or perhaps he was simply stronger than he thought. It wasn't her weight but her proximity that affected him. "Just…Give me a minute."

He had to do this. Ros couldn't keep walking on blistered feet and she was his responsibility after all. He had made the decision to fly to Vancouver. He had made the choice to check out the Volcano. He almost shuddered at the thought of what would have happened if he hadn't been flying as close to the ground as they had been. He never would have recovered the craft at all if they had been any higher.

He took another deep breath and adjusted Ros's body across his back. He could do this. He had to do this.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes." He needed to focus, focus on something other than the feel of her pressing against his back. He gritted his teeth and pushed forward. "Are you…okay?"

Her feet were still screaming from the sudden stop in motion, but the relief of being off them far surpassed the discomfort. She tried to find the humor in the situation, a talent she'd honed in her years working with Christian Grey, who's moods were legendary to those that worked closely with him. She'd had to learn quickly how to deflect and disarm a potentially dangerous CEO and never took things personally.

In her poshest voice she solemnly commented. "I apologize for being yet another monkey on your back, Mr. Grey."

It worked and despite the effort he was putting into not throwing her away from him and running, he managed a smile. "There's always room for one more," he replied through gritted teeth and instantly felt her stiffen at his tone. "I'm being an ass…just…don't pay…any attention to me."

"That is rather difficult, Mr. Grey, as it is impossible to ignore a handsome, muscular man between my thighs."

She'd said it so matter-of-factly that Christian actually chuckled and he felt some of his panic ease. Maybe Ana was right, maybe he was healing. Besides, Ros's hands weren't on him, just her front to his back. He could feel the press of her breasts against his shoulder blades and reminded himself to consider them another barrier between them; which helped loosen a little more panic.

"I don't know that any man would normally intrude on such a high security area, Ros," he shot back working to keep the conversation going, working to set his mind to walking, talking and nothing else.

"It has happened, not often mind you, but the odd occasion." They were practically flirting, something they absolutely never did, and while it felt weird, it also felt strangely comforting. "I had to hide the bodies afterwards of course, they were all ill equipped to deal with my true nature."

"I have no doubt," Christian agreed and shifted her just a little higher on his hips. "Where do you plan to hide mine?"

"In that lake back there if we don't soon find the God damn road!" She jumped slightly at the howl of an unknown animal. "Oh good…wolves." Her legs squeezed him lightly in fear. "Must walk faster."

Christian immediately recalled the scene in Jurassic Park with the Tyrannosaurus Rex, a movie that Anastasia had insisted on making him watch a week ago. In actuality, he'd enjoyed hell out of it. But he didn't think reminiscing about dinosaurs was appropriate when there were far more existent animals wandering about in the night.

"Keep your eyes open," he asked her as he picked up his pace.

"Eyes, ears, mouth open…what…" Suddenly she saw it; a dark strip of pavement way in the distance. "There! I think we've found it!"

Christian confirmed her sighting and quickened his pace even more, just as eager to reach civilization as the monkey on his back.


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: CHARACTERS BELONG TO E. .

Sorry it has been so long between updates, but I have so many stories on the go it is unreal. Anyway, here I have implemented some wonderful suggestions from Jasmine Garden and I truly hope that I have done them justice. I am not at all sure about how this chapter turned out, but I hope you like it, and if so, please, please review. Thank you for all the wonderful reviews so far and feel free to follow me on twitter at sign aryeahunt.

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**CHAPTER THREE**

Ros could feel the impressive muscles move across Christian's back as they trudged down the lonely deserted road and had to admit that Claude Bastille had put her employer in impeccable shape. He didn't seem the least bit winded by carrying her, yet every now and then she heard a hiss of breath from him and his shoulders felt rigid with tension. She doubted that it was the exertion causing him an issue, perhaps the emotional stress of the crash, the heat, or the constant walking was taking its toll?

They had seen only a two vehicles since reaching the road, but neither of them would stop. The sun had set and apparently given Mr. Grey a clue of which way to start walking. She could not see the CEO as a boy scout, and had asked how he could tell the direction. His comment had been clipped, so she had remained silent after that and let him concentrate on carrying her and getting them home.

She shifted, just slightly across his back and froze. Had Grey just whimpered? Ros knew that he was not a physically affectionate man. In this age of political correctness many people maintained an appropriate detachment between themselves and their employees to avoid accusations of sexual harassment, and few were more reserved than Grey. Of course, he was the CEO of a multi-billion dollar empire, and that alone afforded him a certain degree of detachment from most people. One didn't just walk up and slap Christian Grey on the back, certainly.

Personally, Ros knew Grey to be an above board employer who had a remarkably pronounced respect for women; more so than any other man she had worked for certainly, and he would never allow someone to be taken advantage of while under his employ. He was amazingly generous to those who worked for him, and he had a good heart that was driven by his almost desperate need to save the environment and make people safe.

Professionally, she had seen men humiliate themselves to appease Grey, hoping for even a mention from him of association with them that could help them in their climb to the top. He had a powerful effect on women, she had witnessed many swoon over him, or attempt to beguile him with their obvious assets in a desire to 'nab' one of the world's Wealthiest Bachelors.

On the other side of the coin, Ros had also seen grown men and women weep in Grey's presence and threaten to kill and destroy him when their delusions of grandeur were effectively squashed, with the only the barest of interest from the man they held in such desperate esteem. Businesses that were failing or corporations ready to collapse were readily rescued up by Grey Enterprises, but not without consequences that some held him forever responsible for. This was true for any successful entrepreneur.

Grey had his moods, and his temper was legendary, but so was his business acumen. He was one of the youngest CEO's in the world and everyone knew it. He didn't care about adoration, though he got plenty of it, and he demanded, no commanded respect for what he had accomplished, and he usually got it. Not many people could be as arrogant as he was and still maintain such admiration.

Grey had reasons for everything he did and so if he chose to maintain a specific distance between himself and others, they was none of her business; she would always respect his privacy and made sure others did as well. She had worked with him for many years and still, even between them, there was a certain degree of detachment. She still called him Grey, or Mr. Grey, and had only used his given name a handful of times.

They joked on occasion, more so recently and she wondered if this new woman he was dating was the cause. Grey could be playful, but it used to only be on a very rare occasions and a lot of that was him just being charming; another of his talents, and not so much an intimate moment between friends. Lately though, he'd seemed more relaxed, smiled more and even teased her some.

The spontaneous kiss she had given him earlier and the hug she received in return had been a shock and the first she had ever received from her boss. Grey was gorgeous, no one could deny that, but she did not fancy him at all, he wasn't even close to her type and he knew it. Perhaps that was why they worked so well together. The pressure of sexual intimacy was off of both of them and it allowed them to do what they needed and say what needed to be said without worrying about offending the other or reading something more into it.

Because Ros was so good at reading people, Grey often joked she was telepathic in her ability, she could sense the subtle changes in her employer that others missed, and because of her ability to read him, she also made sure that others did not infringe on her boss's personal space either.

Grey was still very young, when one considered the average age of most businessmen of his stature, and she had a strong maternal instinct towards him. Grey had been raised with the usual the social graces and could easily hold his own at a party or function, but he radiated a 'don't touch' appeal that either offended or intrigued people.

In all the time she had known him, Grey had never given a party, never attended one unless it was for business or to support his family. He never met any of 'the boys' for a round of golf or a beer to celebrate a deal, or been to anyone's home for a back yard barbecue. He was an enigma that exuded wealth, power and arrogance, but Ros knew

he could be vulnerable, knew he was, at times, out of his depth, but that was what he paid her for, to deal with the shit he was unable or unwilling to.

She had only been invited to Escalla only once, in all the years that they had worked together, and that was to drop off papers that urgently needed his signatures because they could not be trusted to anyone but her. Even then, she only saw a portion of the massive apartment that was Grey's home, not that she begrudged him for wanting to keep himself and his home private.

Despite his penchant to brood and keep to himself anything remotely personal, Ros still found things she could openly enjoy about him, things she knew about Grey that few others, if any, did. He was a brilliant strategist and environmentalist, had what could only be called a physical attachment to his blackberry, and a deep seeded need for control in all things. There was also his secret addiction to Chess, which they often played together whenever they were away on business, especially when they had to take his private jet.

The biggest of Grey's secrets that she knew was all the lovely ways he showed he cared, while pretending he didn't. Most people didn't know that he had a soft side, but she knew, and wild horse couldn't drag the information from her, because he didn't want it known. So she would let him go on pretending, and she would go on admiring and loving him for it.

When her son returned from Afghanistan after being too close to a car bombing, the doctors advised he would never walk again due to the shrapnel imbedded in his back. Grey had immediately had the best surgeon in the world flown in to aid in Michael's recovery. Her son was walking within a year, and had returned to duty a few months later. She had tried to thank her employer for what he had done, but was immediately brushed off, as if he had given her a day off rather than spent thousands of dollars on a doctor that the President himself would be hard pressed to get, to saved her son's life and career. Plus he had paid off of the medical bills besides. But, Grey wasn't big on gratitude, he didn't like to be seen as a giver, a kind man, it was bad for business, and so Ros would take his secret to her grave.

Another soft wimper pulled Ros from her thoughts.

"Put me down, please."

"What? Why?" Christian asked and was alarmed at how strangled his voice sounded. He wasn't up to chatting; all of his energy was focused and putting one step in front of the other and trying to forget about Ros's proximity.

"I'm hurting you, now put me down."

Alarmed that she might guess his secret, afraid she would start asking questions, he swallowed the bile that rose in his throat and pulled her higher on his back. "I'm fine."

"Mr. Grey…"

"I'm fine, Ros."

Ros scowled and then suddenly yanked his hair so hard he almost lost his balance.

"Ow! Ros! What the fuck?"

"If you're going to act like a mule, you'll be treated like one. Now, drop me."

Christian carefully released his hold on her and tried not to wince as she slid down his back. His relief was palpable as she carefully stepped away from him, but he still worried about her feet. "What is your problem?" he snapped, the effort it had taken him to carry her had wreaked havoc on his usual control.

Ros winced as her sore feet hit the hard pavement, walking over hot coals would be better. "Just give me a minute."

"What are you doing? Why are you…" Christian watched appalled Ros pulled first one shoe off and then the other and tossed them in the road ditch, barely flinching as she thought of the cost. She then pulled a silk scarf out of purse and handed one end to Christian.

"Pull."

Christian scowled but did as requested, felt the fabric tear into two sections and then watched in shock as his strong, refined, but often bull-dog executive assistant sat right down on her ass in the filthy roadway and started to wrap the pieces of scarf around her swollen feet.

"What the fuck are you…" It dawned on him. "Wait!" He toed off his Italian leather shoes, ripped out the cushioned inner soles and crouched to hold them to her feet.

Ros grinned and tied off the pieces, so it almost looked like she was wearing genie slippers. She sighed and wiggled her toes in appreciation. It wasn't exactly Dr. Scholl's and wouldn't offer much of a barrier beyond a few miles, but it felt better than completely bare feet or those horrible shoes. She raised her arms.

"Up."

Christian pulled his shoes back on, caught her extended hands and helped her rise, surprised at her ingenuity. "Ros, that will only work for awhile…"

"It will be enough."

"I can carry you…"

She waved a hand at him, catching the flicker of panic in his eyes that his own words produced. "Mr. Grey, another car could come by here any moment and pick us up. There is absolutely no way I will be seen riding on your back." She lifted her chin defiantly and brushed off her skirt. "I do have a reputation to protect."

Christian held her gaze, saw the barest flicker of sympathy in her eyes and realized that, somehow, she knew how difficult it had been for him to have her on his back. He felt like kissing her, but knew that would be totally inappropriate, so made a mental to call Carolyn Acton and arrange for several new pairs of shoes and work outfits to be sent to Ros, once they returned home.

"Being seen with me could only help your reputation, Ros."

Ros started walking the way they had been headed. Her feet almost moaned in relief. "Not for the kind I prefer, Mr. Grey. That is how rumor's get started."

He smiled, but the mention of rumors got him thinking about Anastasia again. Fuck! He really needed to get home and find out what was going on? He and Anastasia seemed to be doing okay, but he couldn't be sure. She'd left him once and he was scared to death that she would again. She hadn't said yes to his marriage proposal yet and it was driving him insane. She was close to Jose, too damn close, and he could lose her instantly if he wasn't careful.

"Are you sure we're headed the right way?" Ros asked after another while of silent walking unable to stand the quiet between them, especially with wolves and crickets and God knew what other night creatures making noise around them.

"Yes." Christian winced at his own snappishness. He tried for control, some semblance of normality and pushed Ana and Jose out of his mind. "My father used to take us backpacking twice a year through Europe and Asia. He served time in the military before becoming a lawyer."

It was uncanny really how easily Carrick could find his way from almost anywhere in the world. Christian had been too screwed up, to unsure of himself to actually ask Carrick to teach him, especially in the early years because he couldn't yet verbalize his interest. As a young boy he still desperately wanted to impress Carrick, to prove himself so they would keep him and not throw him away, and so he listened and watched his father when they were on an excursion, paid attention to what Carrick told Elliot and what he didn't know Christian found and studied in books.

"Oh, like the sun always sets in the west?"

"Well, no actually it doesn't," Christian returned eager for anything to focus his troubled mind on. "The Sun only rises due east and sets due west on 2 days of the year," he explained. "On the spring and fall equinoxes. On other days, the Sun rises either north or south of "due east" and sets north or south of "due west."

"Really?" Ros stared at him impressed, although why she should be surprised he knew this stuff was beyond her. Christian Grey was always surprising her with his knowledge on different subjects. "So…we're headed…South?"

"North."

"Seriously, how can you tell?"

"Because I remembered which way the sun set and…" He pointed to the twinkling stars above. "There's the Milky Way and there's the North Star. Trust me, we're going in the right direction." Not that it would matter if a damn car didn't come along soon. He still couldn't understand why the other two hadn't stopped.

Ros pulled out her electronic organizer and started typing with her thumbs.

"What are you typing?" he asked curious.

"An idea for Grey Enterprises to develop a Wilderness Survival Course."

Christian blinked. "Are you serious?"

"Hey, don't knock it. Someone like me, who needs GPS to cross the street, would pay big bucks to learn some of this shit. Outward Bound has been doing it for years, why can't we inspire and delight by bringing families together and make a few bucks doing so?"

Christian opened his mouth twice to comment and then shut it. Ros was one of his best idea-people, if she says it would fly, it would fly, but he couldn't help thinking she was poking fun at him. "And who do you have in mind to teach all these minions how to survive?"

"You, of course."

"What? Are you out of your mind? I have a business to run and…"

"Hey!" She turned to him. "Do you have any idea how much publicity we could get if we came out with a Christian Grey Wilderness Survival Guide? Seventy-three percent of women would sign up just to get a glimpse of you in jeans and a leather jacket."

"You are not using my...my looks for…"

"Only for the first month or so, get everyone hooked." She grinned and spread her hands in front of her face. "Picture it- Christian Grey, bare-chested and…"

"No fucking way!"

"Advertisement is key, you're always saying so..."

"I never meant as a means to sell myself!"

"You sell yourself all the time, or else what do you think your publicity team has been doing all this time?"

"That is completely different!"

"How?"

"They're selling me as the CEO of Grey Enterprises, not some fucking gigolo in jeans and leather!"

"Is this because you don't own any jeans?" she sighed. "We can buy you some jeans, maybe some tight ripped ones and..."

"Enough about the fucking jeans already!" he snapped and immediately thought of the pair of jeans he kept in his the bottom of his drawer.

He shook his head, thinking about them made him think about Ana again. When he didn't make it home would Ana show Jose the playroom? Would she let him wear those jeans? Would he walk in and find them fucking in his very own bed?

He suddenly realized, apart from his worry over what was happening at Escalla, most of his anxiety from their earlier proximity had faded away. Son of a bitch. She was screwing with him. "Fucking with your boss could get you fired, you know?"

"A- If I was fucking with you, you wouldn't be able to form coherent words, plus you have the all the wrong equipment." Ross put her organizer away and started walking again. "And B- You wouldn't dare."

"Excuse me?"

"You wouldn't dare fire me."

He didn't know if it was their circumstances, his thoughts about Ana and Jose or the fact that his trusted number two was behaving so strangely with him, but his temper flared. "What makes you think so?" he snarled.

She stopped and turned to him again. "Two words. Donald Trump."

Christian felt the warmth leave his face at the name of his nemesis, who had been trying to steal Ros from him for years. How could she even think about going to work for that cocky, toupee'd, Viagra-addicted slime ball! Trump had been the only man who had ever fucked him out of a deal and the man never let him forget it. Granted, he had gotten his own back multiple times, and there were instances when they had to deal with each other in business, they both had far too many investments not to have to meet once in awhile, but Christian still hated Trump with a passion.

"You signed an NDA," he insisted, angrily.

"I don't have to reveal your business dealings to work for him."

A strange feeling coiled itself around Christian's intestines, even as he reminded himself that everyone was expendable, everyone could be replaced. But this wasn't everyone, this was Ros, his number two. Faithful, loyal, dependable Ros and the idea of losing her to anyone, especially Trump was like razor blades in his stomach.

"You'd leave me?" he asked quietly, desperate for his fear not to show, but unable to keep from asking the question. "You'd leave me for him?"

Ros realized she had gone too far when she saw the spark of vulnerability in his eyes. She almost reached to touch him then refrained. Instead she met his uncertain gaze dead on. "Not in a thousand life times."

Christian held her gaze for several long moments, searching and finding the truth in her eyes. She had been teasing him and he had jumped all over her, attacked her in fear and defense. What an idiot he was. He tried to recoup some of his pride. "What about a thousand and one?"

She smiled. "Well...about that time you should be paying me enough to buy Trump and use him as my pool boy."

Christian laughed outright and had the urge to hug her, but he didn't. Ana would say he was being too careful again, to controlled. "I'll build you two pools, one for him and one for his toupee."

Ros laughed at this and then a roaring sound had them turning. An Ford explorer was headed towards them and they waved frantically, but again the person did not stop.

"Motherfucker!" Christian yelled outraged as the vehicles taillights disappeared around the bend. "Why won't they stop?"

Ros sighed. "Maybe they don't understand desperate hand waving and cries for help," she decided. "Maybe we need to try an international language." She spotted the gleam of headlights approaching again and dug into her purse. "Quick, how much money do you have?"

"In cash?" Christian pulled out his wallet and flipped through the bills. "About three-seventy-five."

Ros grabbed his cash and added it to her stack. "With mine that makes five ninety-eight." The lights grew brighter as she fanned out the bills and waved them at the approaching semi. "Come on you bastard! See the green. See the green...YES!"

"He stopped!" Christian announced, surprised as the truck pulled off to the gravel shoulder just ahead of them.

Ros grabbed his arm without thinking and pulled him at a run. "Hurry, before he changes his mind!"


	4. Chapter 4

DISCLAIMER: characters belong to E.L. James.

Wow, this chapter kind of ran away with me, but I hope you like it anyway. If so please review.

In other news, my new book Mary's Tears is available for purchase and download at , so please feel free to check it out and link is on my FF profile page.

* * *

**CHAPTER 4**

As they approached the cab, the passenger door swung open and an husky giant of a man with a long white hair and beard, in denim overalls and an old train conductor's cap grinned at them.

"You folks lost?" he asked as Christian helped Ros climb up.

"Our helicopter crashed," Christian advised as he stepped in after Ros and realized that there was only room for two people in truck cab. A large cooler sat in the middle between the seats, and a fat, rounded hound dog sat in the rear of the cab with his head on the cooler watching them.

"I sure ain't heard tell of that one," the driver chuckled. "Anyone else hurt?"

"No, it was just us," Ros assured and the grunted and almost toppled onto the driver's arms as Christian squeezed in beside her. "And we put the fire out."

"Fire? Lordy be." The trucker watched, amused, as his passengers attempted to find a way that they would both fit on the single seat. "Afraid you'll have to share. I don't usually have company except ol' Sammy here." He indicated the hound dog, and then extended his hand to them. "Most folks call me Big John."

Ros smiled and shook his hand, a little alarmed when hers complete disappeared inside his mammoth mitt. "Thanks so much for stopping. I'm Ros and this is…" She paused and considered for a moment. "Chris."

"There's only one seat belt," Christian complained, waving off her familiar introduction, understanding that despite Big John's kindness, they didn't know the man and he had to be careful who he revealed himself to. Being one of the wealthiest men in the world did warrant caution.

Ros huffed at his anal retentive safety issues. "Well, you'll just have to sit on my lap, Mr. Grey."

Christian glared at her, not in the least amused. "I'd crush you," he muttered, and then suddenly pulled off his belt, slid into the passenger's seat and fastened the seatbelt over himself. He then pulled Ros down on his lap.

"I wasn't serious!" she insisted as he effortlessly faced her towards the front, spread his legs so hers could fit between them in front of the dashboard, then wrapped his leather belt across her, like a shoulder sash, and tightly secured it around his seatbelt. "Talk about crushing!" Ros could barely breathe with how tightly Christian had fastened his trouser belt.

"Safety first, Ros."

Ros couldn't turn to face him, nor was there even an inch of room between their bodies. "At least loosen it a little so I can breathe!"

Christian scowled. The belt needed to be tight so she would be safe. Why couldn't she understand that? He wasn't happy about this situation either, but he'd be damned if they'd survive everything they'd gone through today only to have Ros fly through the windshield if Big John had to stop suddenly.

"Please, Mr…Chris. It's cutting off my circulation."

"I just want you to be safe." He relented and adjusted the belt tongue to a notch lower. "Better?"

"Yes." Ros could hear the worry in his voice, but couldn't see his face. She appreciated his concern, but really! It was very awkward facing forward on his lap. I can't sit like this the entire ride!"

"Is it uncomfortable?"

Ros gritted her teeth, actually his lap was quite comfortable, being a petite person had its advantages, and he emanated heat, which helped because she seemed to have caught a chill during their walk. "No, but it's very awkward."

"Why don't you turn sideways?" Big John suggested, kindly and pushed the cooler a little further into the back of the cab, receiving a protesting whine from the dog. "Settle down now, mutt."

Christian chewed on his lower lip, wondering which position would be better for Ros, warring with his need to keep her safe. "Ros?"

"Let's try it at least?"

He released his belt and slid his legs together as swung sideways. There was now plenty of room for her to slide her legs in front of the cooler, between the seats. Christian fastened the bent around just her waist this time, not the least happy about the lack of support this position offered, and fastened it to his belt.

"Is that better?"

"Much," she offered and leaned against the passenger door, quickly locked by Christian, for support and so she could see both her boss and the driver.

She felt Christian's arms slide behind her waist and across her lap as he linked his fingers together, obviously still troubled with the arrangement. She considered how many women would pay, lie and scheme to be in the lap of Christian Grey, but she only felt warmth and comfort from her friend, and nothing more. She knew he felt the same.

"Whenever you're ready, Big John."

The driver released a high pitched giggle that was absolutely unlikely in a man so large, and started the engines. "Here we go!"

The sudden jolt of the truck starting pushed her against Christian and something sharp pierced her side. "Ow!" She reached into his jacket and pulled out the small wrapped box. "What is this?"

"That's mine!" Christian snatched it from her. "Don't touch it!"

Ros blinked at his temper. "I was only asking a question. If you prefer I can sit on the cooler, or climb in the back there…"

"It isn't safe!" Christian insisted and his arms tightened around her.

"Safer than sitting on your lap with only one seat belt." And a hell of a lot more comfortable for both of them, she reasoned silently.

"Now you kids, no fights in my cab." John chuckled.

Christian was tempted, for the briefest of moments, to spank Ros. Not for sexual gratification, but because she wasn't listening. She could be bull headed sometimes, but she usually listened.

"Stay!"

Ros crossed her arms over her chest and glowered at him; he knew better than to use that tone with her. It was fine for everyone else, but never with her. "Excuse me?"

"I…You could get hurt," he muttered as his eyes flickered towards her.

"Very well.," Ros accepted, knowing that the hint of remorse in his eyes was as close Christian Grey usually came to an apology. "I'll stay here then."

"Where you kids headed?" Big John asked as the dome light finally dimmed in the cab and only the moonlight and running lights illuminated their way.

"Seattle," Christian advised. "Are you going that far?"

"Didn't plan to, but I reckon we can take the scenic route."

"We have money," Christian began, eager to get home and he looked at Ros, who had the money.

She started to reach for the purse she had dropped by Christian's legs. "Yes, we have…"

"No, no!" John refused with a smile. "You kids keep that now." He waved a massive paw at them and winked. "You might need it to buy you a new whirly bird."

Christian gaped at him. Didn't the man believe their story? He opened his mouth in angry protest and received a quick elbow to the ribs. He hissed, both at the sudden close contact and the brief jab of pain as he glared at Ros, wounded.

"That's kind of you, Big John," she said. "If it's not too much trouble, could we use your cell phone to make a call?"

"Why?" Christian asked, curious. He didn't answer to anyone. They were both adults for God's sake, and would be home soon enough.

"People might be worried about us, Mr…Chris."

"Why?" he asked again.

Ros ignored him and looked to Big John again. "Anyway, if we could use your phone?"

"Don't have one."

Again Christian gaped at him. "You don't have a cell phone?"

"Nope. Don't care for them"

"But…how do you keep in contact with people? How to you make a living?"

"When I get to where I'm goin' I make my calls, and most truck stops usually got phones for us to use, or when I stop for the night I call from the motel or pay phone."

Pay phone! Christian looked at Ros appalled. Did they even make those archaic, outdated machines anymore?

"Got a CB that I can call my dispatcher, though. You're welcome to use that."

"I don't believe we'd be able to contact any of our friends that way, but thank you, Big John."

"I can stop up the road away's if I see a place."

"That would be perfect, thank you."

"Ain't no thing."

Christian jumped a little as something wet touched his ear and he turned to see the hound dog, standing on the cooler with its front paws, its nose impossibly close to his cheek.

"Down, Sammy."

The dog slowly dropped back behind the cooler at Big John's order.

"You like dogs, Chris?"

"I…" He'd never really been around any. "I'm not sure."

"You kids hungry? There's some sandwiches and cokes in that cooler there. Help yourselves, now."

Christian and Ros exchanged a glance. The man refused their money, and was now offering them food?

"I…oh no, we…we couldn't…" she began, just as her stomach growled embarrassingly.

"Now, there is more than enough." He reached sideways and popped the top on the cooler, revealing several Tupperware containers, a six pack of coke and even some fruit. "You get some of that into you, now."

"Thank you very much, John," Christian offered, genuinely touched by the offer and hungry enough not to waste the offer. He paused, it wasn't safe to release Ros while they were moving, well the entire set up wasn't safe, but he didn't want to let Ros go just to eat.

Ros she seemed to sense the dilemma, and carefully selected a container each for them and two cokes. She fed Christian a sandwich with one hand and wolfed down her own with the other, ravenous from their journey as she hadn't eaten since early that morning. She opened one coke between them and they took turns drinking from it.

Big John reached in and selected an apple and ate one handed as he drove. "You kids married?"

"No!" they both answered quickly, and Christian almost choked on the remains of his sandwich.

Again Big John chuckled. "Ain't no sin in bein' in love," he assured. "People gotta do what they feel is right, that's what's wrong with this world. Too many people worked up over what other folks have, what other people say is right, say is good." He shook his head sadly. "Folks forget how to think on their own, nowadays."

"We…we're not a couple," Ros advised. "We work together."

"Sure, sure." He winked. "I ain't one to pry. You have one of them apples, there now. They're real good. Come from my nephew's orchard, fresh from the tree." He giggled again and reached to a side pouch on his belt. "You can use this to cut it."

Ros accepted the pocket knife and cut an apple into quarter. She gave the first piece to Christian then ate one and her eyes widened. "Wow!" she remarked, startled at the burst of juice and flavor. "That is really good!"

Christian agreed. "I think it's the best I've ever tasted," he agreed as Ros fed him another piece before carefully bending over and reaching for a second apple from the cooler. "Does your nephew only grow apples?"

"Nope, also got peach and pear trees and macadamia's. All from seeds he planted and tended himself. " Big John advised proudly. "He grows some vegetables too, but mostly he's all about the fruit." He shook his head, sadly. "Real shame what's happenin'."

"Why, what's happening?" Ros asked.

"Well, he's just got a small orchard, ain't got the land or money of one of those industrial size farms who have contracts with the big franchise markets. He sells most of his stuff to neighbors and at the farmer's markets in the summer, don't make much, but it's enough to keep him goin' and a roof over his head for the wife and kids."

Big John grew silent for a moment, considering his nephew's plight, then continued.

"Anyhow, some developer been buying up all the land around his, wants to build those God awful condos, tear down all those lovely trees." He shook his head, dismayed. "Poor Johnny," he paused and smirked. "He was named for me y'see, well he ain't got much left in him to hold out. This developer been pressuring him big time, and I suspect been talkin' people out of buyin' his goods. He barely brokesplit even this year. It's a damn shame if he had to sell. The land was his daddy's passed on to him when he died, and that boy been plantin' and sowin' and lovin' that land since he could walk. It was all his idea to plant an orchard, started out with three apple trees and turned it into twenty." Big John shook his head, sadly. "Damn shame."

Christian stared hard at the last piece of apple Ros popped into her mouth, before she handed Big John back his knife. It had good color to it, a really good taste, and from what he could tell when she was cutting it up, even the core was good and pure.

Ros shook her head. "I'm sorry to hear about your nephew, Big John."

"Me too."

"Aren't most farmers covered by the co-op? Isn't there someone who can help him fight the land developer?"

"Naw. Johnny's place was too small for them lot to bother with. We checked with lawyers and such, but in the end it comes down to one fact. If he can't sell his fruit, he can't run the farm or keep a roof over his family's head. You can't fight those big cooperation's. Them rich people don't give one lick about someone like Johnny."

A silence fell over the cab as they drove through the evening, John concentrating on the road, Ros shifted in Christian's arms exhausted and Christian was left to brood.

Ros drifted off before she could help herself and Christian shifted slightly as her head slid down on his shoulder so she would be more comfortable. He realized he was still holding Anastasia's gift in the palm of his left hand, while his right curled tightly around his left wrist to hold Ros in place.

He sighed, wishing it was his Ana that was curled up in his lap at that moment and his fingers tightened on the box. It was killing him not knowing what was in it. He'd forgotten about it during their recent crisis and hike across the plains, but now…now he wanted to open it so badly. But, no. He promised Anastasia he would wait.

"What time is it?" he asked quietly, so as not to disturb Ros.

Big John glanced at his watch. "Almost seven."

Christian shook his head and tried not to groan. He'd been away from Anastasia for too long. What was she doing with Jose? What had 'the boy' talked her into doing? And what the hell was in this fucking box?

"You're lookin' mighty hard at that box, son. Something special for your girl?"

"It's a birthday present for me...from my...girl., but she said I can't open it until my birthday."

"When's that?"

"Not until tomorrow."

"Oh." Big John chuckled, sympathetically at the slight whine in his passenger's voice. "Well…the good thing about surprise gifts is you can still try and guess what is in them."

"Why?"

"Well…because that's part of the fun. Haven't you ever tried to guess what your gift was first?"

"No." Christian didn't point out that he hardly ever received gifts.

"Let's see. It's small, well good things come in small packages, they say."

Christian nodded and considered what a nice, small package he had in Anastasia.

"A watch maybe?" the older man guessed.

"I have a watch." He had several in fact, most costing upwards of five thousand dollars.

"Keys to a new car?"

"No." He couldn't see Anastasia buying him something like that, not when she was so anti-wealth. "A model?" he asked, suddenly hopeful, remembering the one of Charlie Tango she had given him.

"Naw, too small, unless it's a miniature model."

Christian shook his head. "No, I don't think so."

"What else comes in a small box? Come on, boy, think!"

Christian thought for a moment. "Cufflinks?"

"Why sure! I bet she got you some real nice ones!"

Christian nodded. He did like cufflinks, but he had many pairs. He couldn't see Anastasia giving him something he had so much of.

"Maybe it's one of those thingamagigs!"

"What?"

"You know, those sticky things you put in a computer."

Christian's eyes widened. "A flash drive?"

"That's the one!"

He scowled. That was possible, but then he started to worry about what would be on the flash drive. Maybe she videotaped herself doing something provocative. He wasn't sure how he felt about that idea. What if someone else saw the video? He didn't want anyone looking at Anastasia but him.

Maybe she made him a playlist, like he had for her? That would be nice and very thoughtful. He would enjoy that, but then he remembered Leila and realized that Anastasia probably wouldn't have chosen that gift, since he'd mentioned that Leila had done it for him once before.

He rather liked this game, it gave him something else to think about what Ana and Jose were doing alone at Escalla. Was he plying her with wine, putting his slimy hands on her body when she was too drunk to fight him off? Was he leading Ana to one of the bedrooms right at that moment to…

"Fuck!"

"What's that, son?"

Christian bit his lower lip so hard he tasted blood as Ros shifted, startled from sleep by his sudden curse. She quickly straightened, embarrassed to have fallen asleep on her employer.

"Sorry," she muttered.

"It's fine," he replied just as quietly. "Go back to sleep, Ros."

"No, I'm okay, now. Thank you." She noticed the lights of civilization and pointed to a gas station ahead. "Could you stop in there, John..." She began and was immediately contradicted by Christian.

"No!" Both Ros and Big John glanced at him, surprised. "We should keep going." He had to get home! He had to stop Jose from touching Anastasia! She was so easily swayed, so gullible and innocent at times. It would take almost nothing for The Boy to get her into bed and…"We're almost there, aren't we?"

"We should stop and call..."

"I want to get there now, damn it!"

John nodded and continued on as Ros crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the door, trying not to think of her very full bladder or the worry she was putting her spouse through.

"I need to get home," he whispered to her. "I _have_ to get home."

She heard the tremor in his voice and squeezed his arm. "We'll get there," she promised and noticed the package in his hand. "Would you like me to put that back in your jacket?"

He nodded and handed it to her, then they settled back and rode the rest of the way in silence.

When they reached the outskirts of Seattle, Christian broke the silence and spoke to John. "Your nephew needs a sponsor."

"What's that now?" Big John asked.

"He needs a sponsor," Christian repeated firmly. "Someone who will take on his financial burdens."

Big John scoffed. "Now who's gonna go and do that? Some big city slick who'll come in and start tellin' Johnny how to run his place. That won't never do."

"No," Ros refused as she stared at Christian with motherly pride. Sometimes, the man's brain worked faster than the speed of light. "A sponsor doesn't have any say in how a business, or in this case, an orchard farm is run. He simply foots the bill for repairs, expenses, payroll and the like."

Big John cast them a doubtful sideways glance. "What's in it for the sponsor then? Johnny ain't got much..."

"He's got a hell of an apple," Christian commented quietly. "And if the rest of his fruit are as good he'd have a hell of commodity."

"No doubt about that, but like I was saying, he can't sell anything because of that developer fellow."

"Your nephew shouldn't need to depend on town's folks and tourists. It's good for awhile, but if they'll be turned away on the word of a stranger, they're not worth selling to." Christian chewed his lower lip in thought, then met Ros's intrigued gaze. "What's the average cost spent on fruit and snacks being brought in for most offices now?"

"Depends on the size and employee ratio, a lot go for vending, but down town Seattle probably spends three to five thousand a month, easy."

"Because they're paying deposit and import tax fees at the stores."

"I would say so, yes."

"What would the cost be on a local farm with local transport?"

Ros did the calculation in her head. "You're weeding out the middle man, certainly, but then you have to consider fees to the trucking company, less of a selection depending on season and you take a big risk on weather."

"Cost?"

"Overall, twenty-five hundred to three thousand, if everything goes as it should."

"And we'd be getting a fresh natural, and frankly superior product rather than the chemically enhanced produce available year around."

"Certainly." She smiled slowly. Christian Grey wasn't really thinking about the cost, overhead or product, he was thinking of keeping a small time farmer from going bankrupt. But, she'd pretend it was all about the bottom line too, because that is what he needed from her.

Christian glanced at Big John. "Where is your nephew's farm, John?"

"Just about forty miles outside of Portland, why?"

Ros reached down for her purse and pulled out her business card. "Give him this the next time you see him and tell him we may know someone who will sponsor him,"

Big John fairly gaped and then his big brown eyes filled up with moisture. "Really? You know someone who could help my Johnny?"

"I believe so. Make sure you give him that card and tell him to call." She indicated the off ramp. "If you could pull off here, Big John, We can get a cab the rest of the way."

"Sure thing." He pulled off the highway and into a strip mall and eatery. "You folks sure you'll be okay?" he asked, concerned.

"We'll be fine," she assured as Christian released her from her makeshift harness and opened the door. "We can't thank you enough."

"Oh was my real pleasure," Big John grinned as Ros retrieved her purse, then carefully climbed down as Christian released his seatbelt. "Nice to have the company."

"Thanks so much," Christian offered his hand and Big John shook it, smiling widely. "Make sure your nephew calls Ros. I really think it will help him out in a big way."

"Will do. Hope you get your whirlybird fixed. You kids take care now."

Christian and Ros waved and then Christian closed the door and Big John drove off. Ros waved at a cab that was parked in the waiting area of the mall and they quickly climbed in.

"What a nice man," Ros decided after giving her home address, knowing that Christian would insist on seeing her home first, despite his great desire to get back to his own. "I think that's a fantastic idea to start brining in fruit from his farm for your employees, it should give him more than enough revenue to keep that developer off his back."

Christian nodded as he peered out the window of the cab and tried to contain his anxiety. He would be home soon and then he would know for sure. Would they already be in bed? Would he catch them in the act or would he make it in time to prevent Jose's unwanted advances?

When they pulled up to Ros' condo they noticed a crowd of reporters outside the building.

"What the fuck?" Christian growled, startled as the cab came to a halt and the car was surrounded. "What is all this?"

"News of our crash got out," she muttered and wished now she had kept her damn shoes. She knew she looked a mess, even as she shrugged out of Christian's jacket and attempted to touch up her make-up and hair. "Stay inside," she ordered. "No point letting them get a the apples."

"Be careful," he warned. "And call Andrea to deal with this shit."

"On it." Ros pulled off her makeshift shoes, gripped her purse and gritted her teeth as she opened the door and just as quickly shut it. Christian watched as she expertly waved her way through the throng to the building's lobby, then ordered the driver to Escalla.


	5. Chapter 5

DISCLAIMER: Characters and some of the dialogue towards the end belongs to E.L. James. I am only borrowing them for a short while.

Thank you all for reading, for reviewing and most of all for your support. I look forward to entertaining you with more stories in the future.

If you are interested in more of my work, check out my new book Mary's Tears, now available on Smashwords, and my website at ( aryeahunt dot wordpress dot com)

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**CHAPTER FIVE**

Christian watched Ros get swallowed up by the reporters and stifled the desire to jump out and assist, but she was tough; today certainly proved that, and she'd make mince meat of any reporter that got in her way. He gave the cab driver his address and pulled out his phone, perhaps in habit, then shoved it back inside his coat. He couldn't remember going so long without making or receiving a phone call, or texting.

He thought of Anastasia's last text to him, something about a surprise.

_**Come here, boy. I've got a surprise for you.**_

Christian flinched, startled at the memory and wondered where the hell it had come from. He tried to place the rough sounding voice and couldn't. Then another flash intruded.

_**It's a surprise. You have to come and I'll show you.**_

That voice he did recall, and the 'surprise' had been three junior high kids waiting to beat the shit out of him behind the school. He'd put one kid in the hospital, seriously bloodied another's face before a teacher intervened. He didn't remember hitting any of them, he only remembered the instant they touched him and screaming; then everything had gone black. That had been the first time his parents had been called in, and the first transfer to another school.

There had been other surprises along the way, other people who liked to pick on the rich, moody kid who didn't like to talk or be touched. He'd dealt with all of them, one way or another, in whatever school they sent him too, and ignored the words of all the therapists along the way.

No, he didn't care for surprises, but he was fairly sure that Anastasia wasn't going to try and beat him up. Still, surprises sucked. Knowing things ahead of time, all things, allowed him to prepare for an appropriate reaction. He liked to have that control, was man enough to admit he needed it, really. But he would have to wait and suffer through the idea of what her surprise could possibly be. At least the crash and their predicament kept him away from that for awhile.

Although, what if the surprise was she decided she was done with him and was running away with Jose? No. Fuck, no….it couldn't be that. They'd been doing so well. He couldn't lose her, not now. Not after everything they had been through. But he had pushed, hadn't he? He'd pushed her into a relationship, and she left him in the beginning, then he pushed her into moving in with him, and then suggested marriage.

She was too young, he knew she was too fucking young to consider marriage, but Jesus he'd panicked and then, once the words were out, he realized that it was all he could want, all he'd ever want, and it would kill him if she said no. Was that her surprise? Was she going to turn down his marriage proposal? FUCK!

He hit the back of the seat in front of him, startling the cab driver, and then forced himself to calm down. No, he wouldn't think like that. He couldn't or he'd fly apart. Right now all he wanted to do was get back home, hold Anastasia in his arms, take a very hot shower and then take Ana to bed, in that order.

He tried to relax, despite the aches in his body, the stickiness of his clothes and the chill that seemed to permeate through his entire body. Surprises could be good, he reasoned, like the ones that Carrick often gave Grace. Trips to an exotic location, expensive jewelry, or the time Carrick donated a hundred thousand dollars to Cancer in his Mother-In-Law's name, after the ill woman had passed away from the disease.

He remembered the gift box and pulled it out of his coat. This was also a surprise, another he had to wait for. He turned it over and over in his hands, memorizing the shiny blue and green wrapping paper and the small silver ribbon. No one outside his family had ever given him gifts before Anastasia, and he was grateful for that. Not so much grateful for the fact that she made him promise not to open it until his birthday, that part kind of sucked, but still, this tiny little box was for him and whatever was inside it was something she had specifically picked out, shopped for, thought about to give to him. It boggled his mind.

Holding the box to his ear he shook it, gently, because he didn't know if it was fragile. Hearing nothing, he scowled and noticed that the tiny ribbon had come slightly undone, so the bow only had one loop. Biting his lip, he glanced at the driver and 'accidentally on purpose', pulled the ribbon all the way through, until the bow fell apart. Almost immediately a flush of guilt flowed through him and he cursed. He tied the ribbon into a perfect silver bow again and carefully placed the gift in the inside pocket of his jacket. Out of sight, but not quite out of mind. He would wait. He'd promised to wait.

A groan of frustration peeled from between his teeth at the crowd of reporters outside of Escala. What the ever loving fuck? He squeezed his eyes tightly closed, paid the driver then grabbed his jacket and stepped out into the frenzy. He was instantly bombarded with questions.

"Mr. Grey! Were you kidnapped?"

"Mr. Grey! Can you tell us what happened?"

"Mr. Grey! Is this another publicity stunt?"

"Mr. Grey!"

He had pushed half way through the crowd when Sawyer suddenly stepped in, with three other security men and guided him the rest of the way.

"Sorry, Sir," Sawyer offered gruffly as he shielded his employer into the lobby while the other men kept the hounds at bay. "I didn't realize…" It had taken him a full two minutes to realize that it was Christian Grey that had stepped from the cab, and another minute to get over his shock and profound relief at seeing the CEO alive. "Are you hurt, Sir? Should we call Doctor…"

Christian waved Sawyer off as he stepped into the elevator and held up his hand when the GI man started to join him. He needed to be alone and the security man understood that. Sawyer stepped back and watched the doors close.

In the sweet silence of the elevator, in that instant of calm and quiet, the shock of what had happened finally hit. The fear and horror he'd experienced when the engines of Charlie Tango caught fire struck him full force and he began to shake. He'd almost died! Ros almost died! He'd tried so hard to control their descent but the ground had been rushing towards them so fucking fast and all he could think was would the crash instantly kill them or would die slowly of their injuries, or would the fire from an explosion slowly consume them?

And Ana, his dear, sweet Ana. The idea of never seeing her again, of never feeling her touch, yes her touch because she was the only one who could truly touch him. To never hear her melodic voice, to never have another argument with her, or make her laugh or see her cry.

He slapped his hand on the emergency button to stop the car, slid down the wall of the elevator and carefully draped his jacket across his knees. Wrapping his arms around himself, he fought for control again. He didn't think much of himself on a good day, but fuck it- he didn't want to die! And Ros…God bless Ros for keeping him solid and clear headed through it all. If there had been any other woman, shit, any other man he wouldn't have been able to hold it together.

He dipped his head between his knees until his breathing evened out and the horrifying cramps in his stomach eased. He couldn't let Ana see him like this, and he damn sure wasn't going to allow 'the boy' to either. He rubbed his hands down his face and slowly rose, then realized how horribly sore his feet were now that he'd stopped walking and worrying. He pulled off his shoes and socks, and then hit the button to begin the car again.

He closed his eyes, Christ, he was exhausted, but he still had to deal with Ana and Jose. In a moment of blind panic he wondered if Anastasia was even home? What if she and Jose were off somewhere doing…No. He shook his head and strived for control. Right now, he just wanted to find Ana, make sure she was still untouched by Jose and put a stop to in any intentions the boy might have for her, then get her alone and fuck her senseless.

He stepped out of the elevator, slightly disappointed that Anastasia wasn't waiting for him. It was late, perhaps she was asleep? Jesus he was tired, so fucking tired and he really, really needed a drink.

"Dear God in Heaven!"

He turned at the strangle gasp and spotted a young woman, with long dark hair falling over her shoulders, in tights and an over-sized university sweatshirt rushing towards him.

"Mrs. Jones?" he asked, startled at her appearance and the fact that he hardly recognized his housekeeper, who looked years younger than the smart dressed, no-nonsense older woman he was accustomed to.

As if by magic Christian's voice abruptly ended Mrs. Jones' forward motion and she stopped just a few inches shy of running into him. "I…you…" She lifted one hand, then the other, as if she wanted to touch him but couldn't decide on a where, then finally pulled her hands behind her back, lifted her chin and offered him her usual unflappable gaze. "Welcome home, Mr. Grey."

Christian was alarmed by the tear streaks on her face and an unfamiliar feeling crawled up from his stomach and created a lump in his throat. He pulled out his handkerchief, handed it to her, oddly embarrassed by her concern, and hid his discomfort with his usual fallback, charm. "For a moment, I thought you were a lovely friend of Anastasia's from college." he said and was further astounded when her cheeks darkened.

"Give up your nonsense." She allowed her composure to slip a little as she wiped her eyes with his handkerchief and sniffed. "They're in the Great Room."

Assuming she meant Anastasia and Jose he nodded and moved across to the main room, but when he stepped inside he suddenly halted, dumbfounded at the sight he found there.

Anastasia was on the sofa, with Mia and Jose on either side of her, both women sported red puffy eyes, obviously from crying. His brother and Ethan stood in the corner by the fireplace, talking seriously, and Grace was pacing, noticeably agitated, behind where Anastasia sat. What were they all doing here? What had happened?

"Christian!"

He barely had a moment to register his name and set down his shoes and jacket before Grace was in his arms. He was too shocked and too damn tired to be wary of her touch, especially when she threw her arms around his neck and started crying into his chest. He couldn't remember ever seeing his mother cry.

"Mom?" He didn't see Carrick, he realized suddenly. Had his father been in an accident? Was that why they were all here? Had he suffered a heart attack, a stroke? Been in an accident?

"I thought I'd never see you again," Grace whispered, brokenly.

Christian scowled, trying to understand what was happening. "Mom, I'm here." Why would she think that and where the hell was his Father? Had both his parents been in an accident? Had they been mugged? What the fuck was going on?

"I died a thousand deaths today."

Christian felt a surge of rage at whoever hurt his mother, whoever had caused her such distress and he vowed to find out what had happened and who was responsible…Just as soon as Grace calmed down he'd make her tell him everything, everything that had happened to her and to his father and….

Grace started to sob openly into his shirt and Christian was helpless to do anything but pull her into his embrace. Don't cry, he pleaded silently. Jesus, don't cry, mom. I'll get the fucker responsible for doing this to you, for hurting dad for…

"He's alive!" Carrick walked out of Taylor's office and hurried towards them. "Shit you're here!"

The relief Christian felt at seeing his father quickly turned to bafflement as both he and Grace were enveloped in Carrick's arms. What in the name of Jesus, Mary and whatever donkey she rode in on was going on? He tried to remember a time when Carrick had ever hugged him before, really hugged him, and couldn't.

"Dad?" He barely got the word out when Mia squealed and launched herself at him. He was suddenly surrounded by his family and was at a loss of what to do about it.

Carrick stepped back first, then Mia and finally Grace, who mumbled an apology, as if they all suddenly realized who it was they were embracing.

"Hey, Mom, it's okay." And it was, Christian realized. He hadn't freaked out at her touch, hadn't been distraught by her need to hold and touch him, and that was a real breakthrough.

"Where were you?" Grace suddenly demanded. "What happened?"

"Mom." Christian pulled her back into his embrace and kissed the top of his head as he finally realized why they were all here. They had been worried about him. "I'm here. I'm good. It's just taken me a hell of a long time to get back from Portland. What's with the welcoming committee?"

He lifted his eyes to meet with Anastasia's across the room, she looked shocked, distraught, elated and so many other emotions that were visible in her glistening eyes that he was almost overwhelmed by the power of it. Tears slid slowly down each of her porcelain cheeks as Christian was hit with his own storm of emotions. Relief at seeing her, dismay to find her so distraught, need…yes always there was that swift punch of need whenever he looked upon her beautiful face, and then…anger and suspicion as he noticed Jose holding her hand. His gaze narrowed, his mouth tightened as he held Jose's gaze, for only a few seconds, before 'the boy' releases Anastasia's hand.

_**And the rest can be found in E.L. James' Fifty Shades Darker.**_

_**Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed.**_


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